Stage Kiss
Page 5
Scene 1
Lights up on a small, cramped, contemporary New York studio apartment in the East Village.
A kitchenette, a shower in the kitchen, a toilet.
The contemporary installation of a mess. Hyper-real.
Ada and Johnny lounging, dressed in full 1930s costume from the play, looking hungover,
on a fold-out bed, with a tumbler of whiskey.
A packet of bad reviews is scattered on the floor.
SHE AS ADA
Millicent, would you clear the breakfast things?
Millicent!
Millicent doesn’t come.
SHE AS ADA
Honestly, she used to be a reliable girl and now she can’t make a two-egg omelet.
HE AS JOHNNY
Hang breakfast.
He brushes food to the floor.
They kiss.
HE AS JOHNNY
You’re as beautiful as the day I met you.
SHE AS ADA
Am I?
HE
Yes.
They kiss.
The sound of the modern city: honks, shouting, a car alarm, a fire engine . . .
SHE
(Yelling out the window) Shut the fuck up!
(To him, indicating the packet of reviews) Did you read these reviews? They hated us.
HE
Yes. They did. Oh, well.
He smells her skin.
HE
For fifteen years I wanted to smell the exact smell of your skin again. Paper, lemon, sweat—God, it’s the same smell. It’s divine.
They kiss.
They hear rummaging at the door.
SHE
Who could that be.
HE
That’ll be Laurie.
SHE
Who’s Laurie?
HE
You know—Laurie.
SHE
The schoolteacher?
HE
Yes, her name is Laurie.
SHE
Do you live together?
HE
No, no, but she has keys.
SHE
Oh, God.
Does she keep her toothbrush here?
I think I used her toothbrush.
Oh, God.
Laurie, played by Millicent, but now some approximation of a blond, enters.
LAURIE
Hi honey, I brought groceries, I thought you might be out of provisions—oh—hello.
SHE
Hello.
HE
Hey—you met on opening night?
SHE/LAURIE
Yes.
LAURIE
Hi.
SHE
Hi.
LAURIE
You were great. In the play. That one costume! And the whole thing. It was so—neat.
SHE
Thanks. So—where are you from in the Midwest?
LAURIE
How’d you know I’m from the Midwest?
SHE
(Shrugging) Oh, I—
Laurie unpacks groceries—peanut butter, bananas, fruit roll-ups—kid food.
LAURIE
Iowa. Quad Cities? Do you know them?
She shakes her head.
LAURIE
You should visit! My father once said he never met a mean man from Iowa. (Looking pointedly at He) So—
HE
(About to say something important) I—
LAURIE
So the show’s over?
SHE/HE
Yes.
LAURIE
You must be so relieved. It must have been so exhausting. Night after night . . . all those lines . . .
SHE
Once you know them, it’s not really very tiring to repeat them.
LAURIE
Really? I think I would get so tired, repeating the same thing over and over again. That’s why I like teaching kindergarten. Every day is different, you never know what to expect! I love children. I can’t wait to have children. Of course we haven’t been together that long, I don’t even know if he likes children? Do you like children?
HE
Of course I like children.
I was a child once.
He takes a swig of whiskey.
LAURIE
Would anyone like some lunch?
SHE
Is it lunchtime?
LAURIE
It’s twelve o’clock, isn’t it? I never understood how everyone in this city ate so late. Noon comes, and ding I’m starving, it’s like, ring the farm bell!
SHE
Ringadingding.
LAURIE
(Not laughing) You’re funny.
Laurie starts preparing a meal.
SHE
When people say, you’re funny, it makes me feel like they’re saying: you’re not funny.
LAURIE
Oh no, not at all, I think you’re really funny and it’s just rare, you know to find a pretty woman who’s also funny because usually women are funny to compensate for not being pretty, I find. Or sometimes you meet a pretty and funny woman and find out she used to be like two hundred pounds or got a nose job and you’re like: oh, right that’s how she developed a sense of humor, in adolescence.
Sandwich?
SHE
No.
HE
No thanks, honey.
She looks at He.
HE
Laurie, I—
LAURIE
(To She) I’m so sorry about the bad reviews. That one seemed really personal. But maybe you don’t read reviews?
SHE
(To him) Could you help me?
HE
My ankle hurts.
SHE
Tell her!
HE
My ankle hurts.
The doorbell rings.
LAURIE
Are you expecting anyone?
HE
No.
He goes to the door.
It’s She’s husband, Harrison. Played by the husband from Act One.
HE
Uh—Hello?
SHE
Harry! This is my husband—
HARRISON
How did I know you’d be here?
SHE
We came back on the train from New Haven, it was late, too late to—
HARRISON
Take a taxi home?
SHE
Too late to tell you—
HARRISON
Yes?
SHE
That we’ve—
HARRISON
fallen back in love.
SHE
I’m so sorry.
LAURIE
What?
HE
Laurie, let me explain—
HARRISON
No, let me explain. She always falls in love with whoever she’s in a play with. You and—Johnny here—have kissed each other— let’s see—nine times a night, eight shows a week, four-week run, two hundred and eighty-eight times. That’s not love. That’s oxytocin.
LAURIE
You’re good at math.
HARRISON
I’m in finance.
Now take off that costume and let’s go home.
HE
I’m afraid she can’t go home. It wasn’t OxyContin—
HARRISON
Oxytocin—
HE
Whatever—I’m afraid it was fate, being cast in that play. We’re in love again.
LAURIE
HARRISON
You are?
Oh, are you?
SHE
I’m sorry, Harrison. I don’t mean to be flippant. This is deadly serious.
SHE/HE
We’re in love.
Laurie runs to the bathroom and slams the door.
LAURIE
Asshole!
Angela (She and Harrison’s sixteen-year-old daughter) walks in.
ANGELA
(To He) Hi, you’re a total asshole.
Mom
, come home, you’re being a total bitch. Dad’s a wreck. He puked all night. He was like, shivering, on the bathroom floor.
SHE
You were?
HARRISON
Angela, what are you doing here?
SHE
Angela what on earth—? This is my daughter, Angela.
ANGELA
(To He) Nice to meet you, asshole. You sucked in the play.
HE
A pleasure.
ANGELA
I don’t mean to be rude, I just didn’t think you were very good. And I think my mom is pretty good and I’ve never understood how good actors could have sex with bad actors, like how could they not know. Actors must be dumb or something because they mismatch all the time. But like I’m a painter and I think it’s pretty objective, it’s like, can you copy a Renaissance portrait or can’t you? You can, great, so you’re decent at least, but with acting it’s like, you’re just doing human behavior so who’s to say who’s better, but with painters, if they sucked I’d be like, no you can’t get with me, don’t even try it. You don’t see good painters fucking bad painters as much as you see good actors fucking bad actors, and you are fucking right?
SHE
When did you start saying fucking all the time.
ANGELA
When did you start sleeping with the leading man?
Angela looks hard at She and He.
The door of the bathroom flies open and smoke comes out.
SHE
I—
HARRISON
Angela, go home.
Angela glimpses Laurie smoking pot on the toilet.
The bathroom door flies shut.
ANGELA
(To He) So this is your place? It’s kind of dumpy. It’s kind of dumpy, Mom. I walked up like ten flights of stairs. Do you have any food? I’m starving. Dad forgets to buy groceries when you’re gone. And you can’t really eat leftover kung pao chicken on an empty stomach unless you’re like totally hungover which I’m not.
A toilet flushes.
Laurie comes out, tear-stained and wonky after crying and smoking a joint in the bathroom.
LAURIE
Would you like a sandwich?
ANGELA
Yes!
LAURIE
P b and j?
ANGELA
You rock.
LAURIE
Never underestimate the power of a p b and j to make you feel better. Poor thing. No groceries at home.
SHE
(To Laurie) She has groceries. (To Harrison) She has groceries, right?
HARRISON
We have some milk. Look, don’t leave me, honey. I can’t bear it. I may not be a rakish actor. I might not be a romantic who believes in “fate” or soul mates but I believe in you. I believe in eighteen years of choosing each other, morning after morning.
HE
Not bad.
But she doesn’t love you, Harry. Sorry old man.
HARRISON
Would you please stop talking like you’re in a 1930s drama.
LAURIE
(To He) Yes, would you please?
(To Harrison) Why don’t you believe in soul mates?
HARRISON
I don’t believe in God. So I don’t believe in soul mates. Some people believe in soul mates but not God. It’s an inconsistent position. Super American. Let’s go.
LAURIE
Well I believe in God. And soul mates. And I don’t think that makes me dumb. Or American.
HE
I don’t believe in soul mates.
LAURIE
SHE
You don’t?
You don’t?
HE
What we think of as the soul is just a mingling of genetics and our parents, in my case, slowly torturing me, or in your case, giving you complete unconditional love.
ANGELA
(About her sandwich) Mm. So good—
LAURIE
You don’t believe in souls?
HE
No, not really.
LAURIE
God?
HE
Maybe. Not really.
LAURIE
Jesus! How can you not believe in God!
I’m moving in with you how did I not ask you the God question? I believe in God, goddammit! I believe in God. And souls. And soul mates. You’re just a sucker if you don’t believe in the invisible world. You’re just particulate matter. How can you believe in fate if you don’t believe in God? Fuck!
ANGELA
Do you have any more marijuana?
LAURIE
(To He) Are you in love with her?
Are you?
HE
Yes. I am.
LAURIE
(To He) I am not having this conversation in public.
HE
You asked me in public—
LAURIE
Oh!
Laurie runs into the bathroom again.
SHE
(To He) She’s moving in with you?
ANGELA
You’re all such assholes. Marriage should be like a tattoo. You leave it on. That’s the point of marriage and tattoos. There’s this new removable tattoo ink it’s such bullshit like why get one if you want a removable one that’s like the definition of a tattoo, it’s forever. If you’re that much of a fucking coward don’t get a fucking tattoo and don’t get married. Why’d you even have me, you assholes. I hate you. You can’t even figure out if you have souls, Jesus, am I just some fucking flesh in baggy clothes to you? Where are the grown-ups?
I’m out of here. I’ll just take my sandwich and go.
She takes her sandwich and leaves.
SHE
Angela! I’m sorry—
HARRISON
Let her go.
She runs out and follows Angela.
HARRISON
(To Laurie) Thank you for feeding our daughter.
LAURIE
You’re welcome. (To He) You really don’t believe in souls?
HE
No.
LAURIE
Well that is a deal-breaker. Good-bye.
She comes back in without Angela.
A moment.
HE
I don’t believe in souls in general but in particular, I believe in your soul, and your soul, and your soul . . . I don’t know how to explain it.
It’s just a feeling.
Like a song you can’t quite remember but it moves you every time you hear it.
Music, faintly.
He begins singing.
HE
Some enchanted evening, when you find your true love, when you feel her call you, across a crowded room, then fly to her side
One by one a voice is added to the chorus:
ALL
and make her your own . . .
or all through your life . . .
you may dream all alone . . .
Once you have found her, never let her go . . .
once you have found her, never let her go!!!!!!!!
They sing in perfect harmony.
Through some strange choreography,
He and She are now paired. Laurie and Harrison are now paired.
Laurie and Harrison kiss.
SHE
What?
Blackout.
Scene 2
The next day.
Post-coital squalor.
He and She are still dressed in the same clothes,
eating leftover Chinese take-out.
HE
Let’s do it.
SHE
Again?
HE
Again.
SHE
How many times can you do it in two hours?
HE
Let’s find out.
SHE
People shouldn’t have sex. It’s too complicated. People shouldn’t be inside each other’s bodies, it’s weird. Kissing is fine, maybe questionable, but childbirth, sex, they should be outlawed. Friendship
is sublime.
HE
We were friends.
SHE
For a millisecond. For two days before we became insane from being inside each other’s bodies.
HE
Maybe.
SHE
Two days of hope. Two days of potential.
HE
Two days of wondering what it’d be like to kiss you. Remember? You were so young. I think you still slept with stuffed animals.
SHE
Did I? Oh, well, one in particular—
HE
Were you a virgin? I forget.
SHE
Practically.
HE
Practically, hmm.
SHE
Were you?
HE
Essentially.
SHE
As in—
HE
The others were just—girls—you were—
SHE
A woman who slept with stuffed animals?
HE
Yes.
SHE
Remember that apartment? We didn’t have a thing.
HE
You had a mattress, on the floor.
SHE
You had a poster of Contempt.
HE
We didn’t have any money. We snuck into the second act of plays. We lived on a burrito a day.
SHE
And hot and sour soup, remember? We would buy a quart of hot and sour soup and the rice came for free and we’d eat it for two meals.
HE
I didn’t have a credit card.
SHE
You still don’t have a credit card.
HE
That’s true. Oh, and they garnished my student loans while I was in New Haven. I didn’t open my mail.
SHE
What?
HE
Yeah. I was meaning to tell you.
SHE
Oh. Well—that’s okay.
HE
You can see someone more clearly when you don’t have anything. I can see you clearly, as I’ve never seen anyone before or since.
They kiss.
SHE
Remember how I worked at Berlitz language school. I taught English. I would say: is this a duck or a pencil? A pencil. I was so lonely. I had such a hunger for life, I wanted to live . . .
HE
And now?
SHE
I just want to breathe. It feels different than wanting to live.
HE
Do what you should have done then.
SHE
What?
HE
Hold me forever. Curl up with me in a ball and shut the rest of the world out forever and come live with me in an attic or basement—who cares—and pretend we’re the only people in the universe.
SHE
Hm—
HE
Did you miss me?
SHE
You have no idea.
I saw you in every play you were ever in. I never waited to say hello.
HE
I thought you hated me.
SHE
No. I thought it would be nice to reminisce with you one day but I feel like I’m drowning.